All He Wants
by SenpaiBuckwheat
Summary: Why does Soren keep trying so hard to impress the baker's apprentice? Post-TDP, older Soren.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a post-TDP AU with a slightly older Soren. I do not own The Dragon Prince, but the OC is mine.**

* * *

Soren is a smart boy. He knows that dozens of women fall at his feet, he's the most desirable Crown Guard in all of Katolis. Probably the whole _world_. Things are about to change, but he doesn't know that. He continues his normal routine, working out, eating tarts, riding horses. Things are good and normal. If anything should change, it should be an exciting battle.

It is not.

It changes when he smells the jelly tarts being whisked away on a tray. That's a given, but the person who's carrying the tray is someone he doesn't know. Normally, he doesn't care. Servants and cooks and whatnot don't amuse him. Today, however, the swish of heavy skirts brush against his ankle as the newcomer passes, the blissful scent of freshly-baked goods following them. He sees the two long, auburn braids before she disappears around a corner.

"Uh, Soren?" The step-prince, Callum waves a hand in front of his face.

He snaps out of his trance, focusing on his confused student. "Huh?"

"You looked distracted."

What are they talking about again? Oh, yes, Soren remembers his constructive response to Callum's fighting stance. It is terrible. "I guess I was distracted. It was the… jelly tarts. Yeah, the jelly tarts."

Callum raises an eyebrow but doesn't press him further. "Whatever you say, Soren." He abruptly lunges forward after a beat of nothingness, but Soren slaps away the wooden sword in his hand in one movement. Another win for strong-guy Soren.

"You can't take me by surprise!" He says, a little too loudly. "_I _am a _Crown Guard_. Nothing fazes me."

"You got distracted by a tray of jelly tarts," Callum mutters, scuffing at the ground with his boot. There is nothing there to scuff.

Is Soren distracted by a tray of jelly tarts? For some reason, all he can think of is the two braids and the brown peasant skirts. The tray-bearer is small, but she walks with determination, he remembers. He will never see her again as he is too important to interact with the servants.

* * *

He sees her the next day, whirling around a corner too early in the morning. She can't cover her mouth as she yawns because of the tray of freshly-baked goods occupying her hands. The early morning sun darkens her freckles. She struggles to open a door with her elbow; the pastries nearly slide off the baking sheet onto the damp garden grass before she catches the pan with her knee.

Soren thinks of helping her, he straightens from his squat – cutting off the usual amount of time from his exercise. He doesn't get far before she manages to do it herself, closing the door behind her with her flexed foot. He continues his squat.

She returns moments later, tray discarded, but arms full of dirty dishes. A surge of electricity courses through him as they make eye contact briefly. She bows her head, breaking the connection, whisking past him to the kitchen. He doesn't see her again.

Soren resumes his exercising, occasionally eyeing the doorway where kitchen-girl disappeared. She _is_ cute, he thinks, ignoring the trembling from fatigue in his thighs. He doesn't let the idea of her consume him. Besides, she will surely be swooning over him and falling at his armored feet anytime now.

Later that day, Soren pokes his head in the kitchen, waving to a sweaty Barius. The sun is setting, but the kitchen is still hot with fires from the oven. After such an intense day of exercising and patrolling the castle walls, he is in desperate need of a snack. A jelly tart, more specifically.

"These are good," he tells Barius after shoving one past his lips. "Like, _really _good." What's different about them?

The head chef smiles, wiping his floury hands on a dishtowel. "My apprentice was trying something new. No harm in experimenting a little."

"You mean you didn't make these? _You?_" A crumb falls from his mouth onto the stone floor. Barius's smile tilts downwards the slightest amount. "Since when did you have an apprentice?"

He ponders. "Since around the middle of summer? She's been a great help. Very talented."

Soren can't help but think of the girl with the auburn braids. Maybe she's his apprentice. "What's her name?"

Barius raises an eyebrow, but before Soren can explain himself, he answers: "Tegan."

Upon hearing her name, said apprentice pops her head through the archway. "You called?"

Barius laughs. "Oh no, Soren just wanted to know who you were."

Soren smiles somewhat awkwardly, cheeks flushing at being betrayed by the head cook. Tegan glares at him. "I just made those. They weren't for you," she says, referring to the third jelly tart in his hand.

He puts it back on the pan.

"You already touched it, you might as well eat it!"

He picks it up again, biting back a smile as he munches on a corner. She's kind of fun to rile up. And nice to look at. He tries not to think about _that_ too much. Soren remains in the kitchen, peeling off flakes of his tart as he watches the apprentice – Tegan – scurry around, washing the dishes and kneading dough. She occasionally glances at him as if to say "you're still here?" and he makes a point to mouth "thank you" as he selects another tart.

"Where are you from then?" He asks, ignoring the throb in his belly. He's eaten too much.

She doesn't respond right away. "The town," she says eventually.

"How long have you been working here?"

"Barius told you already." A pan clatters angrily in the sink.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Do you need to know everything about my personal life?"

He shrugs, but wonders why she's being a little rude. Why isn't she falling head over heels for him? Most women do. It's fair though, he doesn't need to know everything about her though he desperately wants to. She's becoming more and more interesting by the second.

* * *

Soren isn't a fan of excessive amounts of heat, but he _does _like the way his body looks. Over an hour ago he shed his tunic which was sticking to his sweaty shoulders, giving a few of the servants a view. The twenty-one-year-old had started sculpting his body since he was eleven, but the prominence of his muscles is enhanced in the hot afternoon sun.

Out of the corner of his eye, Soren sees Tegan exit the kitchen with a skin of water. Only then does he realize how parched he actually is. She looks over both her shoulders before shuffling to the middle of the courtyard, where he's going over drills by himself. You know, for fun.

"Barius told me I had to bring you water." She unceremoniously shoves the sleeve in his hands, keeping her eyes focused on the ground. He thinks they flicker upwards for a brief second, but he's not too sure. She keeps talking as he drinks gratefully. "I give water to everyone, by the way, you're not special."

It stings, but he can see her gaze is transfixed on his neck. Maybe she's thirsty too? "Do you want some?" He chokes out, wiping a bead of water from his lip.

Her face turns red, probably from the sun. "No."

He drains the skin, handing it empty to her. "Thank you, I really needed that." She takes that as her cue to leave, and she scurries back to the kitchen before he can say anything else.

Later that night, a cloaked figure emerges from the kitchen, a basket on their arm. Soren squints in the dusk. It's Tegan.

"Tegan!" He cries happily, skipping over to her. "Where are you going?"

She eyes him up and down. "I'm glad you're wearing a shirt now." She does not sound super glad. "I'm going to town to buy ingredients for tomorrow."

"Can I come with?" This sounds like a perfect mini-adventure.

She makes a point of sighing so he knows it's inconveniencing her. He honestly doesn't care. "Just don't get in my way."

They walk to the town center together, and Soren takes this time to ask her questions which she doesn't answer. He's also studying her, taking in the way she walks, how her long braids swing with each step, how her mouth is set in a straight line like she's determined to not relax. He gets sad, wishing she would feel comfortable around him.

Soren steps behind her, distancing himself as she interacts with vendors who are just about ready to close their shops. She is polite, calling everyone by their first names.

It's then that he realizes he's never seen her smile until now. She is absolutely radiant, a dimple forming in her left cheek. Her eyes light up as she selects foods, he couldn't even tell someone which ones she's choosing because he is so entranced by her bright grin.

"You have a very beautiful smile," he tells her without thinking. He almost slaps himself for saying something so bold. The shopkeeper behind the crates of goods raises their eyebrows and quickly glances to Tegan to watch for her reaction.

She says nothing, plastering a frown on her face as she pays for the ingredients and thanks the vendor. They move along and Tegan is not smiling anymore. It's dark now, and her cheeks look a little pink, but he doesn't know if it's from his compliment or from the evening wind. He knows what he _wishes _it was from.

Soren is determined to break the silence that swells over them. "Do you always shop in the evenings?" It's a dumb question, but he needs to say _something_.

"No. I shop in the mornings for certain events and if I get up early enough. Sometimes I run to town if we need something fast."

They're at the castle gate already, and Soren walks her to the dark kitchen.

Tegan doesn't go inside right away, but Soren is content in her company. "Thanks for not getting in my way." Her voice is quiet, and she won't look at him. She bustles inside, skirts swishing.

He grins, hearing the strike of flint stones and the dull glow of a candle. He likes being around her.

* * *

Tegan slaps his hand as he reaches for the pat of butter. "I don't know why you eat butter, that's disgusting." She walks away carrying a tray of freshly-baked goods, but still whips around every two steps to keep her eyes on him.

"Butter is so good. Rich and creamy…" Soren trails off and leans back, acting as if his urge to munch on a stick of butter is finished. It's not. When she returns to her work, he swipes his finger into the warm butter again. "Why do you give Ezran pastries, but slap my hand whenever I want one?"

"Ezran is a _prince_. If he asks for anything I should give it to him." Tegan hisses at a pan of cookies in the oven as she removes it with a thin towel.

Soren frowns. Is she burning herself? "You wouldn't even give a _Crown Guard_ a pastry? My position is pretty important too. If you were a princess I'd give you pastries whether you asked or not. Even if you weren't a princess." He thinks. She should be a princess. Not in a bratty way, but in a she-deserves-everything sort of way. When did he start thinking like this? She deserves a better life. "Do you like your job?"

Tegan doesn't smile – she _never_ smiles at him – but her eyes sure do sparkle. _Man_, she has beautiful eyes. "Yes. I started baking when I was young to help my mother as she looked after my brothers and I never really stopped. It's fun seeing what dishes I can make with whatever's in front of me." There it is – a hint of a smile.

That's all he wants. Her happiness, her smiles, her passion for her job. He feels warm inside his chest and it is definitely not from the multiple fires in the kitchen. Is he staring? He's totally staring.

"I said too much." Tegan looks embarrassed with herself. "Sorry for boring you."

Absentmindedly, he reaches for a snack, the butter, but Tegan is still right there, and she glares at him, ready to strike. Just as she's about to probably-very-lightly slap him, his reflexes take over, grabbing onto her wrist.

Has he ever held her before? Her wrist is so thin, he wonders if she's getting enough to eat. He stares at her for a moment, entranced by her nearness and the feeling of her warm skin against his fingertips. "You weren't boring me at all," he says truthfully.

She's really close. His grip softens, and he suddenly has the very strong urge to hold her hand, but Tegan takes that opportunity to free herself. She looks angry and red, but doesn't confront him on it. She returns to her work without a word.

Later that night he escorts her to her quarters. Soren has never been in the servant's quarters before, but he's disappointed with the set up. Tegan deserves a nicer room like the one he has, with the wide windows on a high floor, a big bed and desk (that he doesn't use), and his own personal washing space. These rooms are all small, and most of the servants share. Tegan doesn't just because of her position, but if she was any lower she'd have to. It's dark and cold in the hallway.

She stops in front of her door. "You didn't have to walk me back."

"I wanted to. Besides," he puffs out his chest, "it's my job to protect people."

"Thanks." She doesn't look very grateful. Why is she fiddling with her hands? "Look, I'm not going to be here for the next few days so don't… miss me or anything."

His shoulders droop. Has she been fired? Whatever for? She's the best baker in the world! "Where are you going?"

"Home. But I'll be back." Soren likes that she's reassuring him. It makes him feel good. Tegan bounces on the balls of her feet before slipping inside her room. "Goodnight."

Soren waves a second too late because she closes the door. "…goodnight."

* * *

He's bored. _Painfully_ bored. Tegan isn't here to bother and stealing treats from Barius just isn't as fun. He's getting antsy. "Why'd Tegan go home?" He asks the head chef for the sixth time that afternoon.

Barius sighs a great sigh. "I already told you: every member of staff is allowed a few days break and Tegan needed it. She was getting homesick."

Soren regrets asking. It's good that she's home so she can feel better, but he still misses her even though she told him not to. He doesn't know how much longer he can wait for Tegan. She said 'a few days' and it has already been _two_ _whole days_. He has an idea. A _brilliant_ idea. "Where does she live?" Soren shoots up from his moping, startling Barius.

The cook readjusts his rolling pin. "I don't know, it's not really my place to know where she lives."

Soren already has a starting point. "Thanks!" He sprints out of the kitchen, bursting through the palace gates into the town.

He traces his steps to when he tailed Tegan as she shopped. He starts with the first vendor, a plump woman who sells dry ingredients. "Do you know Tegan?" He asks her, out of breath from running.

The seller nods, mouth agape.

"Where does she live?"

She lists a street name somewhat hesitantly, tripping over her words.

Soren's confused as to why he's getting treated this way. Why are people scared of him? He looks down. Oh. That's why. A Crown Guard in full armor is running around, determined to find a young woman. It _does_ look awfully suspicious. They probably think that Tegan has done something wrong.

He doesn't have time to worry about how other people perceive him. He is a man on one mission.

Soren doesn't know the streets very well, but after running around enough and very reluctantly asking a villager for help, he stumbles in front of a small house. It's made of bricks and clay. It's a modest house, but Soren feels an automatic sense of home.

Now that he's here, he realizes that he's nervous. His heart pounds in his chest. Sure, he gets nervous around seeing Tegan anyways, but this is her _family_. He hasn't met them, doesn't know their customs, rituals, values, lifestyle…

Soren takes a deep breath. He's a Crown Guard. _Be brave, Soren_, he tells himself. Before he can knock, the door opens by itself. It's Tegan.

"Soren?" She bounces a baby on her hip. Not a baby, a toddler. "What are you doing here?" She looks more confused than mad.

"I –"

"Tegan?" A voice calls from inside the house. "Who's at the door?" A large-ish woman peers over Tegan's shoulder. Soren assumes she's her mother. "Oh! You must be that handsome Crown Guard boy Tegan was telling us all about." She chitters. "Come inside, dear." She snatches his arm and pulls him in with surprising strength.

Tegan looks like she's about to protest, but the woman sits Soren down at the wooden table by the kitchen. "I'm Mira," she says, "Tegan's mother."

The house is hot with cooking and young children running around. It is loud and a little chaotic, but Soren feels comfortable. He can spot three young boys. They all kind of look like Tegan with their wild auburn hair, smattering of freckles on their faces and shoulders, joyful brown eyes.

"Are these your sons?" He asks Mira.

With expert, motherly skill, she scoops up the two running and screaming boys that aren't the on Tegan's hip. "Yes, this is Francis, Ignatius, and Harper is who Tegan's holding."

He can't tell them apart. "They're very cute," he tells Mira, meaning it. They're cute like their sister.

Mira beams. "Tegan dear, bring our guest something to eat."

"Supper's almost finished, Mama." She's not looking at him and it hurts a little, but he's entranced at how she can so efficiently balance a toddler and cook at the same time. It makes him like her a little bit more.

Mira joins Soren at the table and Tegan looks over her shoulder to roll her eyes at her mother's antics. "You should eat supper with us. Tegan and I would truly value your company. She's been talking about you almost nonstop since she got home."

"Mama!" Tegan's cheeks are flushed from the heat of the kitchen, most likely. Soren smiles at her and she turns away. He's still smiling. He can't stop smiling. His cheeks are hurting.

"I'd like to join you, if you'll have me."

Mira laughs a big, motherly laugh. Soren likes her. "Oh, who wouldn't have you?"

Tegan puts her face in her hand.

One of the triplets crawls on top of Soren's knee. He's initially shocked, but instantly holds the boy with his hands and bounces him like he's riding on a horse. The boy – Ignatius, he thinks, giggles. Tegan holds a pot full of soup in one hand and Harper in the other. When she sees Ignatius, her expression softens. Soren can't help but think of a different time – the future. This mental image of Tegan and him hurts his heart in a way he can't explain. She clanks the bowl of soup on the table and his dream is disturbed. He's momentarily upset, but the waft of fat potatoes and rich beef soaking in a multitude of spices hypnotizes him. It smells _heavenly_.

"Jem should be home any minute now." Just as Mira speaks, the front door opens, and the one of the biggest, tallest men Soren has ever seen in his life bends his head to walk through the door. Jem pecks Mira on the mouth. They look happy.

Soren's heart hurts again, but for a different reason. Oh, to have parents like them.

"Who's this guest we have?" Jem asks. Despite his stature, his voice is gentle and Soren warms to him.

Mira clutches onto her husband's arm, patting his round bicep. "This is Crown Guard _Soren_, who our daughter has been mentioning quite a few times." She waggles her eyebrows, and Soren feels heat rise to his cheeks. Tegan's face matches his.

"Give it a rest, Mama." Tegan hugs her father. Ignatius slides off Soren's lap to join his siblings in attaching themselves like burrs to Jem's legs.

After exchanging a few kisses to his family members, Jem approaches Soren, who immediately stands. He straightens, looking Jem into his eyes and is almost taken aback by how much kindness is in them. He's not used to looking at a father and finding kindness. He clasps Soren's arm. "Nice to meet you, son."

Soren really likes this family.

They eat supper together, enjoying Tegan's soup and fresh bread _immensely_. During the meal, Soren gets to hear his fair share of embarrassing stories about Tegan and her siblings which makes her rub her temple. Even though it's a little mortifying, Soren can clearly see that she enjoys being home. He understands why she would.

The sun sets. The triplets are winding down and Tegan puts them to bed as Mira and Jem talk to Soren. They ask him about his work, hobbies, dreams, and, unfortunately, his family. He spares them from the details. Tegan eventually joins her parents at the table.

"Tegan dear," Mira says, all affection, "why don't you escort our guest to the door?" Soren likes Mira a lot.

Tegan does just that, closing the door behind them as they step outside. "You never answered my question." She wrings her hands together. "Why did you come here?" Soren fears she's angry at him, but when she meets his gaze, she's curious and almost hopeful.

"I was going to say I missed you. Even though you told me not to." He scuffs his boot against the stones on the path. "Thank you for the meal. And for allowing me to spend time with your family. I truly enjoyed it."

"I…" she trails off, as if she has something important to say. Soren expectantly leans forward the slightest amount. "Never mind. Thank you for coming to visit. We had a good time in your company. Have a good night, Soren."

She slips inside, and Soren walks in the direction of the castle.

What he doesn't know is that on the other side of the door, Tegan smiles.

* * *

**A/N: This will ideally be a shorter fic, but I have a few oneshots I'm ready to post once this is finished. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and meeting Tegan!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: As per usual, I am procrastinating on schoolwork, but what else is new? **

* * *

"Here, I saved one for you." Tegan unwraps a tart from a cloth and hands it to him. Sometimes she finds him on his Crown Guard shifts. "It was on my way," she explains, but he doesn't understand how the royal stables can be on the way to anywhere.

He's going to get fat if he keeps eating all the delicious food she offers him. Soren takes a bite before even figuring out what flavor it is. Not apple, not cherry, and not raspberry or strawberry… "Lemon?"

She shrugs. "I wanted to try something new." She wrings her hands together and squints nervously at a black horse. It whinnies and she jumps, clinging onto his arm.

Soren's about to laugh, but can't manage to make himself after feeling her fingers clutch onto his sleeve. He suddenly can't think. He achieves in choking out something. "Are you scared of horses?" Okay, maybe that came out a little more condescending than he would've liked. She removes her grip on his arm and he regrets saying anything.

The stables are fairly clean, but Tegan is able to find a stray piece of hay and poke at it with the tip of her shoe. "Not really. It's just… they're so big." While her head is down, he can see the tops of her braids. How do girls do that with their hair?

"Come here," he finishes his _delicious _tart in a final bite, grabbing her fingers with his clean hand. Maybe he imagines it, but he thinks her grip on his hand tightens when he touches her.

Soren stops in front of a stall, clicking his tongue at the black horse – Desiderius. Tegan tenses when he pops his long nose over the wooden wall. Soren puts his free hand on Desiderius's snout. "See? He's not scary." Pulling her in front of him, he places her very soft and small hand onto the horse's neck. Maybe it's a mistake to still be holding her hand, to have his broad chest against her back, but Tegan doesn't say anything, so Soren doesn't move. He doesn't _want_ to move. Ideally, he'd stay there for a long time.

"Have you ever ridden a horse?" He asks, and his voice sounds too loud for their nearness. Entranced, he strokes one of her long, auburn braids. He wonders what she looks like with her hair out of them.

Tegan shakes her head, and now Soren is _very _aware at how he is still touching her hand. "We don't have enough money for a horse. My papa walks to work and I live here, so we don't need one anyways."

He feels silly for asking. She strokes the horse once by herself and Soren's silliness dissipates into pride.

She turns to face him. "My hands smell like horse now." Tegan stares at her hand like maybe if she looks at it hard enough it'll clean itself.

Then he has an idea. An idea so brilliant it almost rivals the idea to go visit her while she was taking her break. "Let's meet tomorrow," he says, reaching past her to pat the horse again, "and I'll take you horseback riding."

Tegan hesitates. "I'll have to talk to Barius, but okay." She doesn't move and it allows Soren to enjoy being this close to her a moment longer. "Is there anything I should bring or do?"

He shakes his head, too excited to actually answer her with words.

"Okay then. Tomorrow." Before he can say anything else, Tegan rushes out of the stables and Soren needs to melt against a wall to regain his composure.

A date! He has a date with Tegan!

He straightens, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow. Soren has not thought this far ahead. Where will he even take her? It must be somewhere impressive to win her favor. What do girls like doing? Soren does not know. He's never been so interested in a girl that he's thought about what she might like.

He thinks of Claudia. _She's different_, he reminds himself. She liked magical bugs and reading spell books and being with Dad. Tegan isn't like Claudia. Soren feels an unexplainable surge of bitterness, but pushes it down in favor of thinking about Tegan.

He distracts himself by thinking of the feeling of her soft hand in his, the nearness of their bodies as they talked in the stables. Now, he is thoroughly distracted.

* * *

Tegan looks stunning, as per usual, her trademark braids draped elegantly over her shoulders. Soren's only problem is with her skirts. Maybe he didn't think this through.

"I don't know if I feel comfortable riding a horse," she very hesitantly reaches up to let Erasmus, a handsome chocolatey mount, sniff her palm.

"No worries," Soren sweats in the blistering heat, but also at the unexpected obstacle. He's brought out Desiderius and Erasmus to ride, but the latter looks like a no-go. Besides, Tegan knows Desiderius better. "You can ride with me." He likes that idea. That means she'll have to hold onto him. "No worries," he repeats dumbly, meaning it this time. "Do you want to sit in the front or the back?"

"Uhm," she gives Desiderius's shoulder a gentle pat, jumping closer to Soren when he swishes his tail. "Which is safer?"

Soren puffs out his armored chest. "It's either I hold onto you, or you hold onto me." Is this flirting? Soren's a master at it.

Tegan laughs loudly at his stance and words. He feels stupid only for a brief second before he fully appreciates her bright smile. She's been smiling and laughing around him more lately, and every time she does he wants to jump into a river to cool off. She sobers in a moment, flushing a bright red. "I guess you can hold me."

Soren likes that. "Do you need me to help you up?"

Tegan nods.

Soren stands behind her, hands on her thin waist. He's nervous. "Okay," why is his voice so shaky? "Put your left foot into the stirrup, and on three I'm going to lift you up and you'll swing your other leg over." He readjusts his grip. "One, two, three!" Maybe he's too strong for his own good, because Tegan has to hold onto the saddle horn to avoid completely tipping over to the other side.

She's laughing nervously. "I am on a horse."

And what a sight that is. She sits up straight and rearranges her skirts. Soren hops onto Desiderius with ease, hoping the action impresses her. She scoots forward and he situates himself behind her.

Tegan smells like baking and sunshine and a very nice soap he couldn't tell anyone the scent of. Soren reaches past her to grab the reins and probably imagines the way her breath hitches as he leaned forward.

He starts the stallion at a comfortable walk. "Is this okay?"

She nods, but Soren can tell she's transfixed with the tall trees in the forest they're walking through on either side of them. "It's beautiful," she mutters.

Soren mumbles an agreement, but he's more focused on her than the nature around them. _Stars_, she's beautiful. Soren has fallen _hard_.

"Are you staring at me?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

They're silent.

"Do you want to go faster?" Soren asks, attempting to break the ice.

She shrugs. "That could be fun."

Adrenaline coursing through him at the idea of picking up pace, Soren kicks the flanks of the horse, and it breaks into a canter. At that pace, they make it to their destination quickly. Soren sees the swimming hole before he pulls Desiderius to a stop. Just as he had hoped – no one is there.

Soren slides off the mount, touching his toes in a stretch.

"Soren," Tegan clears her throat gently. "Can you please help me get down?"

Oh! He apologizes, reaching his arms upwards to hold onto her slim waist again. He tries very hard not to think about how her hands are on his shoulders as he carefully-as-possible lowers her to the ground. She screeches suddenly, and before Soren has time to blink, the wind is knocked out of him and he's on his back on the dirt. There's a pressure on his chest.

Tegan.

He winces, but when he opens his eyes, he's face-to-face with her. Her mouth is parted in shock, and an angry red climbs her cheeks and ears. She swallows. "S-sorry!" She scrambles off him, quickly standing and brushing off her skirts.

"It's okay," he says, equally flustered. He honestly wouldn't have minded if she stayed there a little longer, but inner-Soren tells him it might not be appropriate to wish that out loud. "Well, here we are." He swings his arm to gesture at the glistening pool. The water looks sparkly and heavenly in comparison to the scorching heat. Soren makes quick work of removing his armor and boots. He curls his bare toes into the soft grass under his feet, stretching upwards like a cat, soaking in the sun.

"What are we doing here?" Tegan asks, rolling up her sleeves.

"We're going swimming!" He does not understand how she couldn't have gathered that for herself, but he doesn't mind announcing it to her.

She scuffs the toe of her boot on the ground. "Oh. I don't know how to swim."

The stress-sweat returns. It's not very fun swimming alone. All of Soren's plans are falling apart. Strategy-planning for battles is exciting and easy, strategy-planning for dates is not. "Well," he scratches his chin. "Maybe I could teach you?" Smart Soren strikes again.

Tegan bites her lip. "Maybe I'll wade for now. We'll see about swimming." She starts unlacing her shoes and Soren takes that as a win.

The Crown Guard removes his outer tunic, hesitating when he fingers the hem of his undershirt. Dare he take it off? Tegan may feel uncomfortable, but in all honesty, what woman _wouldn't_ want to see his toned body? Abandoning his worries, he peels off his top. The sun is roasting hot on his shoulders, but Tegan's stare seems to be burning into him far hotter.

"You took off your shirt."

Maybe he made a mistake. "Is that okay?"

She's not meeting his eyes. They haven't been out in the sun long, but she's sunburnt on her cheeks. "Yeah, it's okay." She crouches down to dip her fingers in the water.

Soren resists the urge to push her in. _Be kind_, he thinks. He joins her, testing the water. "It's nice," he says.

Tegan nods in agreement. "Do you usually come here alone?"

He takes a moment to appreciate the nature around them – the sun, trees, birds, sticky summer breeze, before answering. "Yeah." She looks serene and stunning in nature. His voice goes quiet. "I'm glad you're here."

The light catches her growing sunburn. She mutters something and before Soren can ask her to repeat it, she stands and steps onto the sandy bottom of the pool.

The water has been warmed by the sun, but it is still refreshing on his feet, then calves, then hips. Upon seeing Tegan's confusion, he explains: "It's so hot we'll dry off quick." He falls backwards, letting the water rush past his ears. He likes swimming. He resurfaces and slicks back his hair. "You're getting really sunburnt," he tells her.

She clears her throat and looks away. "I burn easily."

"If you're that warm, you can come in the water."

She shuffles forward. "My skirts will get heavy. And I already said I can't swim."

Soren frowns, sloshing towards her. "I did say I could teach you. Let's try."

Tegan tongues her cheek. "I don't know…"

He takes her hands in his, shivering at the softness of them. "Just look at me and trust me." When she makes eye contact, he wants to melt. Eyes that others would see as muddy brown he sees as a rich chocolate instead. She's enchanting.

"You're staring again."

"Sorry." Soren walks backwards, heart pounding at the smoothness of her skin. The water reaches just below his chest – almost to her collarbones. Even under water her hands are warm.

What he wouldn't give to hold her close right now. This urge swells throughout his body and he leans forward, captivated. How has she not been proposed to yet? Who wouldn't want her? She's the most beautiful person he's ever seen in his life – _including_ himself. The sand shifts underneath his feet, nature's way of telling him that it's not right, not now. He splashes backwards onto his spine, sinking down but still hearing Tegan's shriek of alarm, muffled by the water. He swims towards her skirts, wrapping his arms around her legs. He bursts from the water, hoisting the now-screaming Tegan over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Soren!" The laughter in her voice betrays her words. "Put me down!"

He barks a victorious laugh like a beast who's caught his fresh prey. Although he enjoys this moment, he sets her back down, arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Is it bad that he doesn't want to let go?

Her hands are on his shoulders and her eyes are bright with mirth. "You scared me. I thought you'd drop me."

"I'd never drop you." If he moves an inch closer he'd be touching noses with her. He'd like to touch her freckled nose. "Besides," he smirks, "I'm too strong for that."

She cracks a smile, slapping his bicep. "Just teach me how to swim already."

*line break*

They lie on the grass side by side, staring into the canopy of trees. Tegan pats her drying skirts, splayed out in a fan over her legs. Soren's chest is sore from laughing so hard, and the muscles in his arms throb with use from carrying her. It's a good throb.

"Thank you for bringing me here," Tegan says. "It's beautiful." She turns her pretty face to look at him. "Even though I still don't know how to swim." Her freckles have darkened in the sunshine.

Soren's cheeks heat at her remark. It's true, he spent most of his time in the deeper end of the pool making sure she didn't drown by holding her a little too close. She never even got a chance to try by herself. "We can change that!" In a swift motion he picks her up from the ground, holding her bridal style. He splashes in the water up to his knees, threatening to drop her.

Tegan screeches with laughter, wrapping her arms around his neck in order to prevent being hurled into the pool. "Soren, stop! My skirts are almost dry."

He gets euphoric off her laughter and wants to make her laugh again. He takes her advice though, not wanting to push his boundaries. Still carrying her, he wades out of the water, very hesitantly setting her down when he touches the grass.

"You didn't have to carry me all the way out, you know." She is smiling so softly, not moving away. Women are a mystery.

"I wanted to." His voice matches her volume. So easily he could touch her braid. So easily he could pull her against him again. He doesn't.

The setting sun feels hot on his spine. Tegan frowns. "We should get back." She walks to Desiderius, putting the incorrect foot into the stirrup. She doesn't get far before she realizes she's made a mistake.

He doesn't want the date to end. Knowing she's determined enough to leave without him, he joins her on the horse, and they canter in the direction of the castle in silence. It's dark when they return, and he helps her off the horse.

"Thank you for coming with me today." They're standing close again. He holds one of her hands in his, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. Soren wants to kiss her. The realization hits him like a stone wall, but after the time they spent today, he knows what he feels. His heart swells and has to curl his toes to avoid stepping forward and closing the distance between them.

Tegan clears her throat. "I had fun." Her words are a choked whisper. "Um, goodnight." She slithers out of his hold, popping his bubble.

Soren is solemn as he watches her run away. His heart is beating erratically due to uncertainty and certainty and nervousness and peace all at once. His feelings for her are set in stone. He cannot change them now, but he longs to know what she thinks of him. Is she only being kind and doing her duties by letting him spend time around her? Soren wants to know. He is confused and pining. If only there was a sign.

* * *

The day starts out wrong. Soren's body aches from swimming, lifting Tegan, and horseback riding. Although he regrets none of it, he is paying the price. Aside from that, his sleep was far from spectacular, mind and heart awake from thinking about the cook's apprentice. It only gets worse.

He is distracted as he trains, getting scratched by swords more than once. That's too many times. Seeing Tegan emerge from the kitchen to pass him a cup of water brightens him, but only briefly.

"You're bleeding," she takes his forearm in her hands, skimming over the light scratch with her fingertips. Goosebumps cover his shoulders. "We should get a bandage…"

It's at moments like these when he's confused by her. He is used to her scowl and her hesitancy, but then she goes and touches his arm with so much care and gentleness. "Don't worry about it." His voice sounds too harsh compared to her lilt.

She retracts her hands, fisting her apron. "Never mind then." Tegan returns to the kitchen.

He feels bad. He let his negative emotions consume him and affect her. It's not fair to her. Soren is about to turn around and apologize, but a messenger beats him to the door. Mail carriers don't deliver mail directly to servants unless they're marked _urgent_. And mail is only marked urgent when…

Soren prays the letter is for Barius. It's cruel, but he doesn't want that sort of pain inflicted onto Tegan. She doesn't deserve it.

Tegan bursts out of the kitchen a moment later, eyes red, parchment clutched in her hand. She sends a fleeting look to Soren, shooting the worry straight into his heart before she picks up her skirts and runs in the direction of her room.

Dropping his sword, Soren rushes after her. He pushes his own hurts aside, catching her wrist in the servant's hallway. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She whips around to face him, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks. Not being able to stop himself, he wipes one away with his thumb. "It's Francis," she chokes out. "He's sick."

Soren thinks of Tegan's little brother, usually happy and energetic, lying weakly in a bed. He grips onto her shoulders. "Sick? With what? Is the rest of your family okay?"

Tegan wipes her nose with the back of her hand. "They think it's a fever. Everyone else is okay for now, it's just him." She draws a shuddery breath.

"What does the doctor say?"

She avoids his eyes. "We don't have a doctor."

_What_? Who doesn't have a doctor? "No one has looked at him yet?"

Her mouth is set in a firm line. "No."

"Why not?" He wants to shake her. Why don't they just get a doctor?

"We just don't have one." She looks more angry now than sad, but Soren doesn't know why.

Is he not understanding something right now? What is he missing? "Get a doctor! Do you not care for Francis?"

Her eyebrows draw together in fury. "How _dare_ you say I don't care for my brother." She's not yelling and somehow that's scarier.

"If you care for him then, just get a doctor!"

"We can't!"

"Why not?"

"Because we can't afford one, Soren!" Her chest is heaving and she shakes off his hands. "We can't afford one," she repeats, defeated.

Oh. Now he feels like a jerk, and he is a jerk. How inconsiderate of him to think that everyone can afford medical help! He stands silent, dumbfounded.

Tears are streaming down her face again and he hates that he's hurt her. He longs to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but he figures that's the last thing she wants right now. "I'll be back," he says, and he leaves her.

Soren sprints to the stables, hopping on top of an unsaddled Desiderius, kicking his flanks. The horse gallops into town, and Soren leads him to the familial house he so fondly remembers. "Where is he?" He cries after letting himself in the door.

Mira clutches her chest in surprise and smiles at seeing him, but he can see that her eyes are red from crying and she's weary from worry. "Francis? Oh dear, he's in bed. You shouldn't be here. We don't want you getting sick." Her words are dripping with motherly concern and he wants to obey her, but instead opens the bedroom door.

He's grateful to see Harper and Ignatius playing without care. They cling onto his legs when they see him. "Soren!" They shout in unison. He scoops them into his arms, looking down at Francis who is sweating underneath a thin blanket. His eyes are squeezed shut.

"Francis isn't feel good." Harper mumbles into Soren's shoulder.

"I know," he whispers, dread seeping into him. He sets the two of the triplets down, wrapping Francis in the blankets. He shivers at being moved. "I'm going to take Francis to the castle so the doctor can look at him," he tells Mira.

"We can't afford it, dear," she places a soft hand on his bicep. Her eyes say that she knows what will happen if her son isn't taken to get medicine.

"I'll take care of it. Don't worry about the costs."

Tears well in her eyes and her lip trembles. "Tell us how much we owe you and we'll pay it back."

"You don't owe me anything," he reassures her. "I don't want your family to experience any hurt. None of you deserve it." His heart pangs as he thinks of his own hurt but shoves it away. It's not about him.

He leaves the household, Francis in his arms. Soren looks at Desiderius. Maybe he didn't think this through. Will he be able to safely bring Francis back to the castle on top of a horse riding bareback? How can he even _mount_ an unsaddled horse without using his arms? Sighing at the inconvenience, Soren clicks his tongue to get Desiderius to follow him and starts walking.

They arrive at the castle later than he likes. Although Tegan's house isn't far by horse, carrying a feverish bundle in one's arms while making sure a horse stays focused is draining. Add on the emotional exhaustion of worry for Francis, the other two brothers, Tegan, and her parents, and you get Soren: worried beyond belief and praying furiously for Francis to make the trip.

"I need a doctor," he tells the guard at the front gate. His voice is calm and rational, but his heartbeat is erratic. It's summer, but does the air effect Francis?

The guard nods and does as he's told, and Soren doesn't need to wait long before a nurse escorts him to the infirmary.

He's been here a few times before and never liked it. It's a sterile place that's too quiet and reminds him of being alone. He doesn't like being alone. Soren refuses to let himself dwell in his own negative emotions, and he lays Francis down onto an empty cot. These cots are made for wounded soldiers in battle, not for sick children with fevers. The bed swallows him up.

"It looks like scarlet fever," the nurse says. She hasn't even taken a long look at Francis and Soren is temporarily impressed. That is, until he realizes that since it has an official name it must not be good.

He doesn't know what scarlet fever is. "I don't know what that is."

"The boy—"

"Francis."

"Francis—has a large red rash on his arms, chest and face. He's coughing and is feverish. As far as I know, those are all signs of scarlet fever, common in young children."

Soren frowns. He doesn't like that it's common in young children. How many untreated children have died? How many families have suffered? _You're getting awfully morbid_, he thinks, and it's true. He focuses on Francis only. "I'll get Francis's sister," he tells her.

As he walks down the steps, rubbing his smooth jaw, he ponders. How is he going to tell Tegan her brother has scarlet fever? Usually news like that is broken with the mindset that the patient will not recover. He doesn't want to be the bad guy, not again. He decides to tell her that Francis is in the castle and that he's covering the costs so she does not need to worry over it. She can visit Francis for herself in the infirmary and analyze the situation.

It's late afternoon by this point, and Soren's stomach grumbles in protest at his lack of breakfast. He takes a detour to the kitchen, wondering if Tegan will still be there after the news. Probably not. Despite that, he enters, snatching a warm baguette from the cooling rack before Barius can tell him not to. Tegan is nowhere to be seen, as he expected, so he drags his feet to the servant's hall, munching half-heartedly on his bread. It's good, but he knows Barius made it so it's not _nearly _as good as Tegan's. He is also biased.

He reaches her door, knocking softly before turning the knob. There is no sound from inside, so Soren peeks through a small crack in the door.

Tegan is gone.

* * *

**A/N: Don't ask me how often I think about how toned a 21-year-old Soren would be...**


	3. Chapter 3

He's starting to panic. Soren knows he doesn't always need to keep tabs on Tegan, but deep in his heart, he knows something is wrong. He's explored the whole castle by sundown, and, in a last resort, he runs to the stables. "Has a young woman come in here at all?" He asks a flustered stable boy. It's a cryptic description, but he has no time to go into details.

The boy nods. "She took an unsaddled horse and left. Desiderius, I think."

Soren curses. He knows Tegan is not an experienced or confident rider, but he feels a smidge of comfort upon hearing that Desiderius was the horse she took. At least it's a horse she knows. It is at that moment that Desiderius enters the stable – Tegan nowhere to be seen.

The curse returns on his lips, and he impatiently lets the horse lap some water before he mounts him, galloping towards town. He should have expected that she'd head home, but why did she have to take a horse? Tegan's probably out there somewhere, hurt, not knowing the brother she's looking for is behind her in the safety of the kingdom walls.

The setting sun isn't helping his search. Every cloaked woman on the streets gives him the fleeting impression of her until he sees her, _really _sees her, literally seven feet from her front door.

"Tegan!" He cries, sliding off the still-running horse and clutching her shoulders. At his touch, she winces. "Are you okay?" She obviously is not. Her cheeks are flushed from the evening breeze, and there's a bloody scratch on her temple. It's not bad, but the sight of it makes Soren want to cry and throw up and hug her all at once which in all honest, would be gross. "You're hurt!" Upon closer inspection, he notices she's favoring her left leg and is clutching her right shoulder.

"Let me go," she says, weakly shaking out of his grasp, "I need to see Francis."

"Francis isn't here," he tells her, and immediately regrets doing so when he sees fat tears well up in her eyes. He knows what she's thinking and he's quick to correct himself. "I mean he's at the castle. I took him there to see the doctor."

Confusion is etched on her face for a brief moment before she speaks, softly. "You took him to the castle?"

He nods, trying not to overanalyze the gentleness and warmth in her eyes. "We should get you there too, you need treatment."

"I'm already here. I should see my parents." She shuffles to the door, flinching at the pressure on her ankle. It looks swollen.

Soren can't stand seeing her in pain like this. Wordlessly, he scoops her into his arms even though the house is not far. Her breath hitches in her throat and she holds onto his shoulders without looking him in the eye. He understands. He's hurt her today and it makes sense why she wouldn't want to thank him. He knows she's not fond of being picked up even after all the mixed signals at the swimming pool.

She turns the doorknob for him and he kicks the door open with his boot. It's a little loud and aggressive, and he startles Mira and makes Ignatius start crying, but his mood is a little too sour to think much of it. He mutters an apology anyway.

"Tegan! What happened!?" Mira bustles over in a mom-like fashion, leading Soren to a bedroom in the back of the house that isn't the triplets'. He then figures it must be Tegan's bedroom and feels a sense of embarrassment, like he's invading her privacy. He lays her on the single bed.

"I fell off a horse, Mama," she squints her eyes shut as she readjusts herself on the mattress. "It's nothing very serious."

"I think you have a dislocated shoulder," Soren tells everyone, at the wrong time.

Tegan glares at him. "I'll get you some ice and something to eat, dear," Mira excuses herself, leaving Soren and Tegan alone.

He sits on the edge of the bed, adrenaline evaporating into exhaustion. His head rests in his hands. "You scared me."

She ignores him. "When did you come to take Francis to the castle?"

"As soon as you told me." He rubs his eyes, sighing. "You shouldn't ride a horse bareback if you haven't done it before. You've only ridden once and it isn't safe."

She scoffs. "I didn't _die_. Besides, if you had told me you were going to get him, I wouldn't have gone in the first place."

He struggles to keep his voice from raising, but can't stop the anger that seeps into his words. "You still got _hurt_. You still fell off a horse and dislocated a shoulder and sprained an ankle and scratched your head. If you fell off at any other angle, at any other time, in any other way, this result wouldn't have been the worst." He clenches his hands into fists.

Mira takes that time to enter, resting a damp cloth over Tegan's forehead. She quickly glances between the two. "I'll, uh, get you some food." She exits again.

"What does it matter to you?" Tegan hisses, and Soren scoots closer to her on the mattress, dabbing at the cut on her forehead with the cloth.

"It matters—" the angle is weird. He leans over her, resting a hand on the headboard, locking eyes. "—because I don't like seeing you get hurt." Now it's easier for him to focus on her cut, but for some reason, that's not what he's thinking about.

She wants to fight with him more, he can see it in her fiery expression, but her cheeks are flushed an angry red.

He can't help himself. Soren's gaze flickers to Tegan's mouth, set in a hard line. He meets her eyes again and they're still battling with him, but she's fisting the fabric of her dress in a motion that seems to portray nervousness more than hostility.

Soren dares himself to wonder. Dares himself to look at her lips one more time and dares himself to ask: "What are you thinking right now?" His voice is low and dark in a way he can't recognize it. He lets the cloth remain on her forehead, hovering his fingers over her skin.

"What are _you_ thinking about?" Tegan's voice is a whisper. A wave of heat washes through him as he watches her intense stare travel down his face to his chin. Maybe it's not his chin.

Is he breathing right now? Is she breathing? "I think you know what I'm thinking about."

The door swings open.

"I brought stew for both of you!"

Soren leans away, avoiding eye contact with Tegan's mother, staring at his fingernails. He has a bad habit of biting them when he's stressed. Today, they're a little jagged. Soren thanks Mira and scarfs down his meal. It's not _nearly_ as good as Tegan's but his stomach is very appreciative of the sustenance.

Mira sobers from her usual smile. "Francis…" Tears build in her eyes. "He's at the castle? What did the doctor say?"

Soren nods. "The nurse said—" ah, right. He wanted to avoid this conversation. "—that it looks like Francis has scarlet fever." He hates being the harbinger of bad news.

Both Tegan and her mother cup their hands over their mouths. The pity and grief in their eyes is more than he can take right now. He doesn't like grieving. "The doctors at the castle are the best in Katolis." That is true. "They've healed many other children with scarlet fever before." He is not one hundred per cent certain that is true. "I'll take Tegan back to the castle tonight so her shoulder and ankle can get looked at by a physician. We should be heading out." He stands, holding Tegan in his arms again before she or Mira can protest.

"I'll write you, Mama," Tegan says, wrapping an arm around Soren's shoulders. She winces at the movement.

The night air is brisk now. "Can you stand for a moment?" Soren asks.

Tegan nods and he slides her down. He unclips the cape around his neck and fastens it around her slender throat, trying not to think about picking up where they left off in her room. They're staring at each other again, Soren's chest aching at her nearness and at the brokenness on her face. He breaks the connection, placing his hands on her waist to as-gently-as-possible lift her onto Desiderius. He mounts after her, careful not to jostle her shoulder when he settles in and wraps his arms around her body to grab the reigns. "We'll take it slow," he says, watching goosebumps sprinkle her jaw. Is the cloak not warm enough?

They travel back to the castle in silence.

The Crown Guard carries her up to the infirmary, laying her on the cot beside Francis. "Do you want this back?" She fingers the cape around her neck. He realizes then that he likes seeing her in his clothes.

"You can keep it for now." He says, turning to the approaching nurse. He explains Tegan's problems to her. "Can you relocate a dislocated shoulder?" Soren knows how, but would prefer not to do it if there's a professional nearby. Besides, that would mean touching Tegan and he's done that a bit too much today.

The nurse nods, making quick work of reassuring and relaxing Tegan, settling her onto the cot, and holding her wrist. The nurse moves Tegan's arm in a circular motion and Soren hears a sickening _pop_.

Tegan's face contorts in pain, then relaxes. "That feels better." She watches the nurse move to her bruised ankle, wrapping bandages around it. Then, a moment later, she leaves, presumably to return with a bundle of ice. "Thank you," Tegan whispers, not to the now-gone nurse.

Soren sits beside her on the cot.

She sits herself up, gazing at the white curtain which separates her from Francis. "I care for my family a lot." He knows this. "But today I've seen how you care for my family as well." She looks directly at him. "And for me." Tegan leans over, placing her hand on his chest. "You have a good heart, Soren."

Unexpected emotion stings his eyes. He's fallen hard for her, and he is becoming very aware that he has fallen for the right person. "I have to go," he chokes out.

Her proximity and kindness and acknowledgement of him is making him dizzy and his entire body is throbbing. He exits the infirmary, aching in ways he can't explain.

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay?" Soren trails behind Tegan in the kitchen, wringing his hands together. "The doctor said you were supposed to stay off your foot for a few days so it could heal and maybe you should take a break."

Tegan rolls her eyes. "_Yes_, I'm okay. It's not bothering me anymore. Leave me alone." She swipes at him with a tea towel before removing a tray of sweets from the wood-fire oven. Her parents are coming to the castle today to pick up a healed-Francis. She looks especially pretty.

Francis, unrestrained, gallops around the island in the middle of the castle's kitchen, being a safety hazard. Soren is not usually one for safety, but after the boy's and his sister's recovery, Soren is careful to make sure nothing happens to them again. He swings Francis into his arms on the next round, holding the writhing ball of energy against his chest.

"Let me _goooo_!" Francis lands a kick on Soren's chin, but it surprises him more than hurts him. Besides, a Crown Guard can easily win against a small boy.

"Francis," Tegan says, biting back laughter at the sight of her brother mercilessly punching Soren with small-child fists, "you either need to behave in the kitchen, or go play outside."

Her brother oozes out of Soren's arms, pouting and dramatically stomping out the door.

Soren marvels at Tegan's way with children. Granted, they're also her brothers, but she still has such a motherly aura and care for them it makes him hurt. He needs to distract himself. Like a moth to flame, he gravitates towards the still-hot pan Tegan placed on the island.

"Don't you _dare_."

He dares. Soren hungrily eyes the fattest pastry, the one with golden brown flaky crust, heaps of heated jam that trickles stickily down the side. It makes his mouth water. Making eye contact with the baker's apprentice, he reaches towards it.

"_Soren_."

The pastry is damp and warm in his fingertips.

"I warned you." Tegan snatches the tart from his fingers.

He can easily take another one, but he wants _that one_. Soren takes a step closer, approaching her, and she takes two steps back.

Laughter bubbles in his chest before he lunges like a wild animal, narrowly missing Tegan as she scampers to the other side of the island. They do this dance of childish pursual until he gains the upper hand, locking his fingers around her wrist and trapping her against the counter. Soren leans over her, chest heaving from the unexpected chase. The skin on her wrist is very soft. Not thinking, he links their fingers together, surprised when Tegan doesn't yank away.

The tart is forgotten, and now his mouth is watering for a completely different reason.

"What are you doing?" She whispers, breathless but flushing a deep maroon.

He doesn't answer. He can't answer. Soren is too hyper-fixated on the bottom half of her face. What would happen if he leaned forward to kiss those pouty lips? Would they taste as sweet as her baking? There are many things he can say right now. For example, "I am entranced by you," or "you look really beautiful" or "I like you a _lot_". Instead, being an unthinking oaf, he blurts out: "why is your face so red?"

Her eyebrows draw together. "It's the ovens." There's a tone in her voice he can't quite place. It may be sarcasm, but he is not very experienced in the art of identifying it, so he remains confused.

"Teeeeegaaaaaan!" Francis rolls in, covered in dirt.

At the sound, the baker tears her hand from Soren's grasp and pushes him away, tart abandoned. "Francis! Why are you all dirty?" She sends a glance to Soren out of the corners of her eyes, cheeks burning again before focusing on her little brother.

"I want a snack." Francis manages to hoist himself onto a stool, peering over the counter. He eyes the fat pastry Soren still wants, though not as intensely as before. He still wants her more.

Tegan hands the tart to him, raising her eyebrows and sticking her tongue out at Soren while doing so.

He laughs, caught by surprise.

"I thought mommy said we weren't allowed to do that." Her brother mumbles with a mouth full of snack.

"Mommy's not here right now. This will be our little secret." She leans down to put a pointer finger to her lips. The lips he almost kissed. The lips he still _wants_ to kiss.

Is the collar of his tunic tight? "I have to go. I'm on shift soon." Out of Francis's view, he takes Tegan's hand again. "I'll see you later." He smiles his award-winning debonair smile.

She matches his grin and his smile lacks compared to her radiance. "Stay safe."

"I will." He sends a glance to her mouth again. Soren has a feeling he'll be distracted the entire shift.

* * *

He is distracted.

A few too many times Soren trips over stairs, walks directly into walls, and fumbles with his sword – something he usually has great skill with. He had anticipated this, but is still impatient to see Tegan again.

The sun sets and everyone goes to bed, leaving only the guards awake. Soren cracks his knuckles out of habit. The sooner he can go to bed, the sooner he can see Tegan the next morning. Any minute now he'll be relieved of his post. Any minute now—

He hears the familiar _clang_ of metal on staircase and Soren bolts out of his position, yelling a "thank you" over his shoulder to whoever replaced him. He sprints down the stairs, holding onto the walls so he doesn't fall flat on his face and roll down the stones. That would hurt.

He takes a shortcut through the courtyard, subconsciously shooting a stare at the dark kitchen. His eyes catch a silhouette sitting on the bench outside of it.

_Tegan_. She's playing with her skirts until she catches his gaze. Even in the darkness of the night he can see her bright smile.

"Soren!"

They meet each other in the middle of the courtyard.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, euphoric and beaming. This is _far_ better than seeing her in the morning.

"I was waiting for you." She bites her bottom lip, reminding Soren of how distracted he was earlier. He gets re-distracted _real_ quick.

He grabs her hand, threading their fingers together. He can get used to this. "Did your parents come to pick up Francis already?"

She nods. "They came while you were gone. They asked about you."

That means they're alone. "Why did you wait for me?" His voice drops to a whisper. Soren is so badly searching for her, he knows what he wants, but it is painful waiting to get it. He is so unsure – he _hates_ being unsure.

Tegan looks at the ground, drawing patterns in the dirt with the toe of her shoe. "I wanted to see you again." She's so quiet he almost cannot hear her. But he does.

Desire swells through Soren. He wants nothing more than to hold her in his arms and kiss her. "Tegan," he breathes, saying her name like a prayer.

"Yes?" She's not looking at him, but her voice is shaky.

"Tegan," he says again, reaching out to tilt her chin up with his fingertips. Her skin is so soft, as he expected it to be, but it still amazes him that he is indeed touching her face. He traces the corner of her mouth with his thumb. "Can I kiss you?" The words leap out before he can think of them and they ring in his ears.

Wordlessly, her gaze travels from his eyes, to his mouth, then up to his eyes again. Heat pulses through his body, yet he can't help but shiver at the intention in her fixed look. Soren is not a very smart person, he knows that, but even he can see that her deep brown eyes hold an answer to his question.

Soren is leaning closer, sliding his hand to cup her cheek. He meets her eyes again when their noses brush and knows they are sharing the same emotions – fear, excitement, nervousness, anticipation.

She squeezes her eyes shut and Soren takes the time to study her, study this moment. He studies the feeling of her slightly-sweaty palm in his definitely-sweaty one, the freckles on her eyelids and above her lips, the tremble in her eyebrows.

He can't wait any longer. Soren leans so close that he can feel her breath on his chin, feel her upper lip skim over his mouth. No battles could ever give him this rush of adrenaline. Nothing he's experienced before replicates the intense pounding in his chest. He dares himself to kiss Tegan fully on the mouth, feeling the warmth of her lips.

It is only for a moment, but he draws back breathless. He kissed her. _Finally_, he kissed her. He is gloriously overwhelmed. This is bad, though. He is realizing that one kiss simply does not satisfy him. He wants more.

"Soren—" Tegan steps closer, if that's possible, and rests a hand on his shoulder, tugging him down.

He realizes it's rude to interrupt her, but he needs to feel her mouth again, just in case he might forget it for a sliver of a moment. Soren kisses her, more confident in himself and in her reaction. He slides an arm around her waist, tilting his chin to feel the way she parts her lips against his. Soren is trying to soak up every inch of her, breaking their hand hold to trail his fingers down her braids.

She whimpers into his mouth and he pulls away. "Are you okay?" His chest is heaving, he notices, and her face is a bright pink, even in the moonlight.

Tegan swallows, nodding. "It's just a bit… new."

His heart drops. "I am _so sorry_. I do not want to overwhelm you or rush you or—"

She smiles shyly, placing her fingers to his lips. "It's okay. I," the pink spreads to her neck and ears, "liked it. A lot."

He grins at that. Soren wants to kiss her again, but knows that if he does, he cannot guarantee he'll stop. Also, Tegan is looking rather disheveled, so he believes it's time to escort her back to her room.

They walk hand in hand, looking over their shoulders to make sure they're not being watched, giggling like schoolchildren breaking curfew.

He stops in front of her door, pecking her mouth in between quiet laughter.

"Soren," she's shaking with bubbly mirth, gently placing her hands on his chest in a weak attempt to push him away.

The Crown Guard holds her face in his hands and kisses her deeply, trying not to get too carried away by the smell of her hair, the feelings of her soft palms on the back of his neck. Her fingernails scratch his scalp and _gosh_ it takes literally everything within him to pull away. "Goodnight," he breathes past her pretty pink lips, detaching himself from her.

He forces himself to walk down the hallway, smirking at her cautious wave of goodbye.

That night, Soren can't sleep, too caught up in trying to remember every moment shared between them. He rolls around in bed, afraid he'll forget the exact way she kissed him back if he succumbs to slumber. He couldn't close his eyes if he wanted to, and if he does, he'll only be thinking about what he felt when his eyelids fluttered shut as he kissed her. The way her mouth matched his so perfectly, the gentle hesitancy in how she touched him, the feel of her slim waist in his hand.

Soren screams into his pillow. His heart will _not_ stop pounding loudly in his ears. Even if he holds his breath, the beating does not falter in the slightest. Eventually, he calms down, eyelids growing heavy out of pure exhaustion, not out of his own will. He falls asleep smiling.

* * *

**A/N: Look at these two gross hormonal teenagers ew**

**This was supposed to be a three-chapter story but it's not quite finished yet...**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Woah it's been a hot second**

* * *

Soren's body doesn't want to get out of bed, it demands more sleep, but the sunlight is glaring into his eyes and Soren's heart beats strong. Today is another day he can see Tegan. His stomach flutters anew as he remembers the events of the previous night.

He combs his fingers through his hair, stumbling to the mirror. The flesh underneath his eyes is dark with lack of sleep. It's definitely not his most handsome, but it'll do for today. He has a valid reason for his appearance, and he can't wait to make Tegan blush when he tells her why that is.

She blushes all right. "Oh," is what she says, picking at some flour under her fingernails.

Soren leans forward and kisses her soft cheek.

Tegan's eyes widen but her eyebrows draw together. He does not really know how she can do that at the same time. If he were to furrow his eyebrows his eyes would be squinting, or if he widened his eyes his eyebrows would be—

Tegan is holding his hand, dragging him to a crook in the wall. "What are you doing?" She hisses.

Is he doing something wrong? She must see the confusion etched onto his face because she continues.

"I'm an _apprentice_ and you're a _Crown Guard_! We can't be seen together! Our positions are so different!" Her eyes get wide and panicky. What is she freaking out over? "What if—what if—"

"Hey," Soren tells her, taking one of her small hands in his. "If anyone so much as _looks_ in the wrong way at us, I'll beat them up." He flexes his large biceps for good measure. When he looks for her reaction, she's smiling _so_ brightly, biting back laughter. His own smile falters as his heart skips multiple beats. It's not healthy.

She bonks her head against his armor once before releasing a soft giggle. _Gosh_. Her grin evaporates in a moment as she stares at him. Her eyebrows narrow. "Oh my, you really do have bad eye bags." Tegan cups his cheeks in her gentle hands, thumbs running under his eyes.

There his heart goes again. She's touching him. _Touching_ him. Soren places his hand over hers, guiding it towards his mouth to kiss her palm. It is now that he realizes how cramped this little corner in the wall is, how they're nearly standing toe-to-toe, how dark her eyes get when he kisses her palm again. How her tongue darts out to moisten her lips when he rests a hand on her waist.

Tegan clears her throat, stepping backwards as far as the nook will allow. "I hope you're able to get more rest tonight." She pops her head around the corner to eye the other guards. "You should get back. To training, I mean."

He nods dumbly, still smiling at her like an idiot. Soren likes her a lot. "I'll see you later?"

Tegan squeezes his fingers for only a moment before releasing them again. "Yes. See you later."

They arrange a place to meet and Soren reluctantly walks away from her, joining the other Crown Guards as they prepare to train together. Soren is proud that he usually has far more training hours than the other guards, but that is simply because he devotes almost every other spare minute to exercising. The other guards a little more lax. Things have changed because of Tegan, however. He is definitely not upset at that. He can afford to abandon one or two exercises a day to spend time with his lady. Sometimes, for fun, he works out in front of her to see her reaction. He thinks she likes it. Who wouldn't?

Lost in his thoughts, Soren takes an unexpected blow to the face. He spirals backwards, clutching his bloody mouth in shock. When's the last time someone had landed a hit against him? He spits a mixture of saliva and blood onto the courtyard stones before attacking his opponent. He's got to win this fight for Tegan now.

In two swift moves, his opponent is tapping out, and Soren sheaths his sword. He feels his split lip with his tongue, suddenly angry. It hurts like the dickens and he doesn't think kissing Tegan will make it heal anytime soon. This makes him sad. He likes kissing Tegan.

When they meet later, in a probably-too-dark-to-be-appropriate hallway, her brows furrow. "Out here getting hurt? How do you think that makes me feel?" She's teasing him, but steps on her tiptoes to brush her fingers over his lips. He winces, but likes that she's touching him again.

"Oh Soren," she sighs, pulling the sleeve of her shirt to his mouth. The rough and dry fabric on his cut makes his shoulders tense.

When he looks at her, _really_ looks at her, he sees her focused gaze, hooded over. He sees her lips, parted in concentration but looking _so _soft to kiss. Not thinking, he brings his hand up to press his thumb against her bottom lip.

Tegan's breath hitches, and she meets his eyes.

"You have no idea how badly I want to kiss you right now," he says, voice handsomely low. Why can't it sound like that all the time? "This split lip is going to drive me _crazy_."

"Me too, I think," she whispers, but he can feel her breath on the lower half of his face.

"Maybe just one kiss won't hurt…"

The connection is broken as she steps back. She's smiling shyly, wringing her fingers together. "Raincheck?"

He pouts, ignoring the stinging. He doesn't want a raincheck. Soren wants to kiss her _now._ "I guess." He pulls her back into his arms, wrapping her in a tight hug. "I'll be waiting on that raincheck."

He can feel her smile, then she puts her hands on his chest to push away, still locked in his hold. Peeking over her shoulders to look down the empty hall, she cups his face with her pretty hands and kisses his cheek. "I have to go back to the kitchen now."

"I-I'll visit you later," he sputters, in wonderful, euphoric disbelief.

She slithers out of his arms, waving goodbye before she disappears.

* * *

Soren takes extreme precautions with his wound, even going so far as to avoid physical combat with his fellow Crown Guards all together. Exercises by himself he can do, but he cannot risk his face again. The cost is too high.

A scab forms over his cut quite a few days later, and he runs his tongue over it. He's on his way to see Tegan, a handful of flowers in hand (which he may or may not have plucked from the castle gardens). He whips the makeshift bouquet behind his back as Barius yawns and exits the kitchen. He waves goodbye to Soren, but not before raising a skeptical brow.

"Uh, night snack." Soren tells him, turning his body so the flowers are completely hidden.

Barius says nothing, a sign that Soren's cover is in the clear. Outsmarted! He is a genius. The Crown Guard sneaks through the kitchen doorway, checking one last time to make sure Barius is gone—

_BAM!_

A bucket of sudsy water splashes angrily against the ground as Soren bumped into Tegan. Her heel glides forward in the soapy mess, but Soren's training proves to be effective as his quick reflexes enable him to drop what's in his hands so he can hold her safely against his broad torso. The flowers splat unceremoniously in the water that is now trickling out the door.

"You brought flowers," Tegan says, still latching onto him. He likes it.

"Yeah. Sorry." They really do look pathetic as the water makes them limp.

She squints at the mess. "Are those from the garden?"

So much for being dashing and considerate and winning her over. He winces. "Yeah. Sorry."

"I, uh, appreciate the effort." She looks at him then, lips twitching into a smile. Upon seeing his scab, she frowns, sliding an arm up his chest to rest her thumb over it. "Still there, hey?"

Oh, now she has his _full _attention. Her soft voice and gentle touch makes him lean into her. "It doesn't hurt anymore." Being this close makes him remember how badly he's missed her mouth on his, holding her firmly in his arms, smelling the sweet scent of her.

Her nose touches his, eyes darken, breath hitches. "What if it reopens and starts bleeding again?" She moves her thumb to the corner of his mouth.

"It won't." _Now_ can he finally kiss her?

She scrunches her nose. "I don't want to taste blood."

"You won't," he nearly sighs in exasperation, wanting her to stop talking so he can kiss her after _so many_ painful days of waiting.

Tegan's hand smooshes against his lips, halting his action. "Raincheck? I don't want to hurt you."

_Nooooooooo_, he wants to whine. "That's two kisses you owe me now."

She rolls her eyes. "I am drowning in debt." Soren squints. "Sarcasm," she says, clarifying. Ah.

He does not release her. "I brought you flowers because I was going to ask you on a date. Tomorrow at noon. You're not working then, right?"

She shakes her head. "Where are we going? Does it involve a horse?"

"Yes."

"I'm not going."

The scab strains against his pout. Maybe if he acts like a child she'll humor him. "You _have _to! I have something all planned out and it'll be so lovely and I just want to spend time with you."

She grins, gently slapping his bicep. "I was joking, silly. I'd love to go anywhere with you." Her words grows quiet but tender, and she's staring so fondly at him he wants to ooze out the door like the soapy water that is beginning to soak into his shoe. "We should clean up this water, I am getting wet."

He agrees.

Together they mop up the mess, making Tegan's job slightly easier as the soapy water she was about to dump outside now serves as water to scrub the floor with.

"Thanks for helping," Tegan says once they're finished. She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, heaving a sigh.

Soren admires her. She is so motivated and unafraid of work. So strong and caring and wonderful and makes the most _delicious_ food and goodness, she _tastes_ delicious too. She's beautiful in ways she can't possibly understand and he wants to kiss her and hold her and—

"Why are you staring at me?"

He likes her _so_ much. "Can't I stare?"

She flushes in the candlelight. "I suppose." Fidgeting under his gaze, she clears her throat. "I think I'm done here." A well-timed yawn. "Time for me to go to bed, I guess."

She packs the mops and brushes away, blowing out the candle and settling the kitchen in darkness. He doesn't even have to ask, but she links her fingers with his as they walk through the courtyard to her quarters. The simple action makes him beam the entire way back.

"Why do you always walk me to my room? Why can't I walk you to yours?"

He's never thought of it like that. "Okay," he shrugs. "Let's go."

"Right _now_?"

He shrugs again. "Why not?" Still holding hands, Soren yanks Tegan back through the courtyard, in the opposite direction of her room. They walk up two flights of stairs and several doorways. Soren is like a homing pigeon, and before long they're camped in front of his door. "Okay. Goodnight!" He chirps, ready to head in.

"Uh, aren't you going to give me a tour?" She crosses her arms, squeezing into the door he's just opened. "Besides, you've seen my room multiple times."

Has he cleaned? Soren panics. "I'm not sure—" But she's already inside.

"Wow, it's messy," she says nonchalantly, but he can see that she's taking in the room with its tall ceilings, large desk and bed, open closet.

_Open closet_. Soren scrambles, shutting the doors over the heaps and mix of both clean and dirty clothes that he's tossed into piles willy-nilly. Tegan pretends not to notice, but she bites back a smile.

Strolling onto the rich red rug, she reaches up to touch the decorative, but still sharp broadsword mounted on the wall.

"Don't touch those!" Soren cries, wrapping his fingers around her wrist.

She smirks at him. "Protective of your _sword_?"

He doesn't know why, but heat crawls up his neck. "_No_, I'm more protective of you. I don't want you hurting yourself."

Tegan scoffs. "Don't worry, Soren, I hurt myself almost every single day in the kitchen. Just look at my hands!" To prove her point, she opens her palms to him.

It's true, he can see years-worth of nicks and scratches and scars from knives, sharp corners, and burns all the way up to her elbows. He zeroes in on a particularly-nasty gash. "Is this new?"

She nods. "Just from yesterday."

What a bad friend he is! "And I didn't know about it? I'm sorry." He holds her arm, bringing the cut to his mouth. He kisses it. Her skin, despite being bruised and scarred, is soft under his lips.

Her face soon matches the color of his rug as he places another kiss to her palm, making eye contact with her. "I don't want you to get hurt," he mutters into her skin, placing a delicate kiss on the inside of her wrist. He kisses each of her fingertips, enjoying the way Tegan swallows and draws her attention to his mouth. Maybe now he can convince her to kiss him for _real_…

Maybe this is a bad idea, him kissing her alone in his room. At night. With the door closed. Tegan loops her arms around his neck and they sway side to side, almost like a dance.

"You have a nice room," she tells him, continuing to survey it. "A nice big bed."

Whipping out his debonair smile, Soren flirts in the way he has been gifted. "Room for two."

"In your _dreams_."

Never mind.

"Well, I'm going back. Night." He blinks and she's out of his arms, walking towards the door. "See you tomorrow."

She leaves without another word, and Soren waves goodbye to the closed wooden door. He picks at the scab.

* * *

Noon cannot come soon enough. Despite his excitement for the date, he is angry at the cloudy sky that threatens to ruin the day. He's grateful that the air is still warm, but if it rains, he'll be in a very poor mood.

Tegan sidles up next to him, bursting his moody bubble. A smile creeps up his lips. How can he be sad now that Tegan is grinning so brightly at him? Drop the plan: rain or shine Soren will be happy to be with her.

"Where are we going?" She asks, nudging him with her elbow.

Soren takes the opportunity to snatch her arm and rest it overtop his. He leads her to a saddled-Desiderius. "Around. Need me to help you up?"

Tegan nods. Soren rests his hands on her waist, preparing himself to hoist her into the saddle— Her mouth is so close to his. Her waist, slim in his large hands expands as her breath hitches. She checks over her shoulders, only finding horses on either side of her, is content and she closes the distance between them.

"What was that for?" Soren questions, maybe a little too huskily once she pulls away.

The grin returns. "Repaying my debt." She turns to stick a foot into the stirrup.

Tonguing his cheek, Soren pulls her back down. "Oh no, you're not quite finished." In a swift motion, he holds her chin and bends down to kiss her again, snaking an arm around her lower back to have her closer against him. She doesn't kiss him back immediately, startled by his action momentarily before leaning into him and finding a gap between his armor to rest her hands on his tunic.

She's breathless when he lets her go, cheeks pink and lips parted. It makes him want to kiss her again. "What was that for?" She mocks him with a gentle smile.

He cannot help but peck her lips once more. "I was showing you what your debt required. Don't forget, one more payment in full before you're free of me."

"I hope I am never free of you." Tegan looks up at him through her eyelashes and his knees almost buckle.

"We can arrange that." He winks at her, taking pleasure in the redness creeping up her ears. Soren lifts her onto the horse, settling himself behind her and reaching past her to grab the reigns.

He likes riding horses with her. It is selfish, mostly because he likes the feel of her wrapped in his arms, likes the scent of her hair as her braids fly behind her while they ride through the forest.

They reach their destination in a few short moments. The clearing of flowers in the middle of the dense forest is exactly as Soren remembers and he can feel Tegan's shoulders expand as she takes a breath in a gasp.

"Like it?" He asks, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Her mouth is parted in awe and it's easy to see why as the wildflowers in the clearing are vibrant and happy. Bright purples, blues, yellows, reds, and oranges create a mishmash of color.

"Soren it's _beautiful_!"

The Crown Guard's chest puffs in ego. All women like flowers. He slides off the horse and assists her down, wanting to hold her close to him, but she is more excited for the flowers and wriggles out of his grasp.

Hmph. Maybe he should've taken her to the armory so she can watch him polish his armor and then she might be more inclined to pay attention to him. The flowers were a mistake.

Soren's negative attitude disintegrates the moment he sees the wide grin on Tegan's face. She frolics in the patch like a small deer, crouching on her knees to sniff the blooms. Tegan plucks them by the handful, arranging them into multiple pretty bouquets. Soren is content in watching her try to figure out the best color schemes for the flowers, her elegant fingers removing crusty leaves and petals, ensuring only the prettiest of flowers make the arrangement.

Seeing her there, with them, makes him think of her in a long, white dress, holding a bouquet such as the one in her hands. He envisions her with hair unbraided, cheeks flushed from nervousness and excitement, eyes twinkling in pure joy. Soren turns away and clutches his heart.

The sky is clear, but the fat drop of rain that lands on his forehead is a telltale sign of a impending thunderstorm. He has only a moment.

A moment is too late.

Faster than he can blink, black clouds roll overhead, bringing with them great sheets of rain that _pings_ against his armor.

Soren and Tegan share a glance, and she's running to him, flowers abandoned on the now-soaked grass.

Laughing, they take shelter from the sheets of rain underneath a nearby tree. Soren shields Tegan from it so the rain pounds against the armor on his back instead of her face. It's almost like the elements are trying to push them to be closer together. They're leaning close, smiling, her spine pressed against the bark. The wet wood is slimy on his palms.

" ." Tegan says.

"What? I can't hear you because of the rain." Soren leans closer, focusing on her mouth. Maybe he can read her lips this way.

She brushes the wet hair out of his eyes. The action makes him focus on her mouth for other reasons than just communication. "Kiss me!"

Her words surprise him, but as a soldier, Soren knows when and how to obey orders. Now is _definitely _one of those times.

She kisses him as he kissed her earlier, close to mimicking the exact way he showed her how she was to fulfill those rainchecks. Tegan seems to do it better than he, making his body weak.

Soren draws back, wishing his armor was off _right now_ so he could hold her closer yet. "Your debt is repaid," he says in a hoarse voice.

She grins, but only for a moment. Tegan tugs the lip of his chest plate, bringing him back to meet her mouth. Maybe the armor does serve a purpose besides making him look ruggedly handsome.

Her torso is quickly sandwiched between his and the tree as he reciprocates.

They kiss like lovesick teenagers, which they kind of are, and before long, the summer storms washes past them, leaving the air humid and thick.

Soren pulls away, breathless, looking into Tegan's hooded eyes. "Maybe we should…" he tucks a damp strand of rebellious braid behind her ear, "…stop for a while."

She nods, pushing him away gently, but not in the sort of way that would make him think she didn't like the kissing, but in the sort of way that she needed to breathe.

Ha. He likes that. He makes her gasp for air.

"We should get back now," she says, voice quiet and not meeting his eyes. Her cheeks are extremely red but it hasn't really been hot enough to burn them. Is she getting sick?

Tegan allows him to assist her onto Desiderius, he's lucky enough to steal a peck on her cheek before he hoists her up, then mounts the horse.

They ride back in silence for the most part, and Soren doesn't know what _she's_ thinking, but _he's _thinking about that kiss. His nose starts to run, and he sniffs ungentlemanly-like. Man, he did hardly anything today, but his muscles feel exhausted. Lifting Tegan couldn't in any way make him sore because he is so strong and she is so small.

When they get back, Soren _wants_ to keep seeing her, but his eyelids are so heavy and his soggy clothes cling to his skin. He should change.

"Hey, Soren," Tegan says, cupping his cheek once they've returned to the stables, "you don't look very good…"

He doesn't _feel_ very good. All he can do is nod.

And then he throws up on her shoes.

* * *

Sleeping is _so_ delicious, Soren doesn't know why he has a job where he has to stay up late and get up at absurd hours of the day. There's something so comforting about lying on a mattress for hours on end, thinking of better things and avoiding your problems. He is so soft under the blankets and warm even without his shirt on, warm because of the figure next to him…

Wait – what?

Soren peels his crusty eyes open, seeing nothing but his pillow at first, then reaching upwards to rub the goop hardened on his eyelids, his large hand skimming a gentle waist… a waist he knows all-too well.

_Tegan_.

He's fully awake now, with a slight headache, but awake nonetheless. Tegan's braids are fuzzy, but they rest on the pillow, exposing the elegant curve of her neck. No _wonder_ his arm is so sore, it's been tucked under Tegan, cupping her elbow.

Now what?

His cheeks burn. They… slept together? He wants to smile and apologize all at once, but he cannot because she shifts and sighs gently, then snaps upwards, like the mattress is a burning hot pan she left in the oven for too long. She whips around, cheeks as red as his.

Tegan seems shocked for only a moment, but then she kneels on the floor beside the bed, grabbing a sopping wet washcloth and wringing it out. "You're awake? How are you feeling? Do you need something to eat? Can I get you some water? Are—"

"I'm fine," he says with a gravelly voice, meaning it. He feels well-rested.

She dabs the cloth on his forehead. "I was so worried. You slept for days."

"I'm better now." He holds onto her wrist, stopping her from wiping his forehead. "Come here."

He didn't think it was possible for her cheeks to get redder, but they did. "You're not wearing a shirt," she whispers, picking at one of her nails.

Soren smiles, still groggy. "That didn't stop you before."

Tegan looks _so_ angry he should be frightened, but he knows she's probably just embarrassed. She slides under the covers, facing him. "Listen, I _had_ to because body heat is the fastest way to warm someone up and it is _not_ because I was eager to get in bed with you so don't even _think_—"

Her flusteredness makes him laugh, and he momentarily thinks about how bad his breath must smell. He wraps her in his arms, pecking her forehead. She's broiling hot in his arms. "Did you catch my fever?" He mumbles against her soft hair.

"No," her voice is no more than a whimper. "Your chest is just really solid."

Now that he thinks about it, her hands are between them, on his pecs. He releases her, but she does not retreat very far back.

"I'm glad you're okay."

"I threw up on your shoes."

The corner of her pretty lips twitch. "It's okay—"

"I threw up on your _shoes_!" Ugh, how mortifying.

"Soren," she says between laughter. She cups his cheek, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone. "It's okay, it was kind of funny."

Seeing her smile, feeling her hand on his skin, he can't stop himself. He inches forward and lays a soft kiss to her smiling mouth.

_Stars._ He's in love.

He could tell her that right now, he almost wants to, but this moment is so unique and he will have so many more opportunities to love her and tell her he loves her.

She can't tell what he's thinking, but her smile remains, eyes sparkling prettily, hand resting on his shoulder.

He could kiss her again, and kiss her for a _long, long_ time after that, or he could say he loves her, he could say his heart wants to burst because of her, she fills him with starlight and sunshine and happiness, but he says none of those things.

The smile on her face is all he wants. For the rest of his life.

-END-

* * *

**A/N: Y'all that's it! Finally finished (during school of course) so now I can publish my 38957298357 oneshots of this couple praise be**

**Thanks so much for reading! And for being extremely patient**

**There will be more of Tegan and Soren (Teren)!**


	5. Bonus Chapter I Guess

**A/N: Sike - it's a bonus chapter**

**This is Tegan's perspective of their first kiss in chapter three!**

* * *

Even though it's summer, Tegan is still a little cold from the night air. Her butt is stiff from sitting on the bench outside the kitchen, waiting for Soren. Maybe it is a dumb idea to wait for him. She can't even guarantee he'll pass through the courtyard on his way back to his room despite it being the most convenient shortcut available. She fiddles with her skirts. She might need to patch them up soon, they're looking awfully ratty…

Tegan is tired of looking up so abruptly at every sound she sees in case it's the Crown Guard, but this time, she recognizes the familiar scuff of boots that she hears when she's in the kitchen moments before he enters, or when he follows beside her as she's in the marketplace buying groceries.

"Soren!" She cries, holding back a groan of stiffness as she peels herself off the bench to run towards him. They meet in the middle, standing almost chest-to-chest. He smells a little sweaty, but he was working, and he is also a boy, so Tegan doesn't expect much else.

His grin is _so bright_ it almost hurts her eyes to look at it. "What are you doing here?"

She realizes she has no reason to make an excuse. "I was waiting for you." Tegan worries her bottom lip, biting back a gasp when Soren threads their fingers together. He is so warm and real and solid and wonderful, she wants to evaporate.

"Did your parents come to pick up Francis already?"

Tegan bobs her head. "They came while you were gone. They asked about you." This is true, but she does not want to go into details because of her parents' endless teasing of her crush. 'Asking' was more like waggling eyebrows.

His eyes darken, temptingly. "Why did you wait for me?" It's a dangerous question, one she should've thought more about before answering.

She can't stop the truth from escaping her mouth. "I wanted to see you again." Intimidated by his probing eyes, she focuses on the tile, making a swirl in the dirt with her shoe.

There's a beat of silence, painful, excruciating silence. Did she say the wrong thing?

"Tegan," he whispers, so soft and un-Soren-like.

Oh gosh. This is it. "Yes?" She wants to hit herself at how much her voice is trembling. Maybe Soren will think she doesn't want what's coming but she _most certainly_ does.

"Tegan," he says, more sure, and she feels his strong fingers delicately tip up her chin so she can stare into this deep blue eyes that are growing more intense with every second.

The action makes her stomach flutter and warmth seep into her torso. Is she breathing? He shifts his thumb to rest over her lips so lightly it almost tickles. Goosebumps spread over her elbows and at the back of her neck. Can he see them? Can he feel them? Can he—

"Can I kiss you?"

Okay, she was expecting this, but the words still hit her like a brick wall. A dizzying, mouth-watering brick wall. Since he's asking, she takes the time to consider even though she already knows what she wants. Tegan studies him, studies the lips she will possibly be kissing in mere moments. Now that she's really looking at him, she observes that he doesn't have much of an upper lip but doesn't dare say anything in case it bruises his ego. Or worse, ruins the moment and lessens her chances of feeling that lack of lip.

How can she possibly answer him while his thumb is resting over her mouth? How can she verbally consent while his fingers are squeezing hers with such care? Will he be able to understand her just by the way she's getting lost in his eyes as blue as fresh dishwater? Maybe it's a poor example, but she can't compare them with the ocean as she's never seen it.

The Crown Guard leans forward, cupping her cheek in his palm. They share a gaze packed chock full of varying emotions – too numerous to mention.

This is _really_ it. Taking a deep breath, Tegan closes her eyes, feeling his warm breath wash over her lips before he closes the distance between them, skimming his mouth over hers. _That's it_? It's a little anticlimactic, she must admit, honestly she was expecting him to be a little more aggressive but—

_Oh_.

He kisses her again, a real kiss this time, and she allows herself to experience his slightly chapped lips before he pulls back all-too-soon. No. _No_! He can't be done yet! "Soren—" she shuffles towards him, hoping that he'll indulge in her just once more. She rests her hand on his astonishingly-muscular shoulder, tugging at his tunic. Okay, it's a little desperate, but he gets what she wants.

Soren kisses Tegan deeper, and very quickly she can tell that even though his upper lip is lacking, his kissing skills are most definitely _not_. She doesn't even have time to wonder how many people he's kissed before because he angles his jaw, capturing her mouth in a whole new way and wraps his arm around her waist, gluing their torsos together. Forget evaporating from before, now she is melting into him, parting her lips and trying to catch her breath as he tugs on her braids.

It's too much and not enough all at once. Tegan can't stop the gasp that escapes her mouth into his. The space between them grows cold as he pulls away from her.

"Are you okay?" He is so full of concern, but Tegan is more focused on how rumpled his shirt is and how pink his lips are. Did she do that? It's a good look for him.

"It's just a bit… new." Not that it's bad in any way.

When his face drops into worry, she melts for him just a little more. "I am _so sorry_. I do not want to overwhelm you or rush you or—"

He needs to stop talking. Hypnotized, Tegan puts her fingers on the lips she just kissed, warm from her own mouth and soft from being worked. "It's okay. I liked it a lot." Only truth in that statement. He smiles under her touch.

Being a gentleman, Soren escorts her back to her room, turning her around before she can squirm away and pecking her mouth.

She laughs his name, but doesn't put a lot of effort into her attempts of getting him to back off.

In a swift motion he's kissing her again, deep and long and delicious. His hands are warm and calloused on her cheeks, but they are so wonderfully gentle. She cards her fingers into his blond hair, feeling the shortness of the shaved areas and the length of the part the flops over his eyes sometimes.

"Goodnight," he hums into her before pulling away.

The outside of her feels cold from the pressing warmth of him disappearing, but her insides are so, _so _hot. Uncomfortably hot. She waves at him, mind still reeling from his passionate kisses.

Sleep doesn't come easy, Tegan is too busy fondly remembering his mouth pressed against hers, the solidness of his muscular body, the softness of his hair, the words he spoke with utter concern and hesitancy. The dark gaze, so intent as he focused solely on her. On _her_. Every time she closes her eyes she sees him, feels him, wants him to kiss her again, to hold her.

Despite her running mind and throbbing heart, the day's exhaustion catches up to her, and then she submits to the rest she so desperately needs.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, now it's done for _real_**


End file.
